somethingwithturquoise | MHA #4; Friday Evening [01/20].

Annie had, indeed, been going through some stuff. Some of it was great stuff! But most of it had been traumatic and very strange -- she still missed that shoe, for example -- and while therapy, it turned out, was actually worth paying for...there really was no substitute for sangria and chatting.

Especially when your sangria-pouring bestie was also very multiverse-fluent.

So here was Annie, knocking on the door with the butt of one of the two wine bottles she'd brought -- one red, one white.

Sometimes you needed a sangria refill near the end of the night, and in Annie's experience, you were usually less discerning about what your poured on fruit and called 'sangria' at that point.

Honestly, it sometimes felt like a miracle that these nights did usually manage to keep the beverages at least wine-adjacent toward the end of them, but, at the same time, there was usually plenty of wine to be had without needing to delve into other areas of boozy libations.

"There you are!" said Summer, as she opened the door, and gestured Annie in, knowing she must be tired from that long trek across the hall, and everything. "Ooh, and you brought reinforcements!"

Which would be worrying if that wasn't just pretty much standard practice, at this point.

It was just polite not to show up empty-handed!

"I figured we might want 'em, just in case," Annie offered, stepping in with a bright smile and a little shrug. "And if we don't get to them, then you have bottles for next time one of your friends goes through some crazy bullshit."

Because yeah, Annie usually knew what it meant when she heard about someone else having sangria. These were absolutely not exclusive to Annie and her own nonsense.

"And if there's never any shortage of anything here," Summer snorted, "it's people going through some crazy bullshit."

Who knew? Maybe she might just need to have herself her own sangria night one of these days!

For now, though, it was all about Annie, and Summer cocked her head toward the living room, because Annie definitely knew the drill by now. "I made both a white and a red this time," she offered, with a proud gesture toward the first of a couple of pitchers, no doubt, and the comically large wine glasses they'd be enjoying them from. "So I'm not sure where you want to start."

"Look how red that is," Annie noted, admiring the hibiscus offering. "I vote we start with the one that looks like it'll do more damage if we spill."

That, everyone, was the kind of foresight you earned through having an all-white-and-gold apartment for over a year.

"And how are you?" Annie had plenty of things to talk about regarding herself, of course, but she also had been meaning to check in a little on Summer, too.

And even though Summer's own decor had been centered around having a couch that could better hide spills of exactly that nature, she deeply appreciated this approach. She nodded with a grin of approval, swooping in easily to pick up that pitcher and start pouring.

With a shrug.

"I'm good," she said, and that really was the truth of it. "Finally getting to take that party break I keep mentioning, but the wedding and Stark's birthday went smoothly and everyone was very impressed, so the reputation carries on unmarred."

She lifted the now very-full glass to somewhat toast to that before handing it over to Annie, and then going to fill her own glass as she sat down.

"What about you?"

She had the feeling Annie would have much more to report.

"I'm sorry I didn't make it to either of those," Annie offered, lifting the offered glass in a little toast of her own before taking a sip. "I'm sure they were both amazing, you never disappoint -- it's just been...."

A pause.

"Kind of a month," she concluded, wrinkling her nose a little. Which was also why she'd not gone to New Year's Eve, and why she'd barely been a blip at the Hanukkah party. "You don't happen to remember when I asked you what shape pizza comes in, in this universe, do you?"

Because that whole conversation had been part of why she'd wanted to check in with Summer, too, once she'd really thought about it in hindsight.

"Well, it's not like I haven't noticed you not being there," Summer noted, "but I, like, wasn't going to mention it..."

She would just low-key panic about Annie just being so totally over their friendship, or something, but it was way, way easier to just not think about it and tell herself that Annie, like Rey, was just working through some things and would be back whenever she was ready.

Which...here she was. So it was all fine.

"But that was....was that that weekend, when I was that stupid version of me with the perfect life and so nothing weird had ever happened to me and I was in grad school??"

She vaguely remembered a pizza conversation with Annie, but she did have trouble placing it, though there had been a lot of discussions about universes around that time.

"Or maybe that was after?"

Please. Summer was in a very small club of friends who had not betrayed-slash-possessed-slash-abandoned-slash-manipulated Annie, at this point. Good luck getting rid of her.

"Okay, that makes sense -- I kinda wondered if you'd been cloned or like, replaced with a robot again," Annie noted, eyes widening. "But that sounds right. You seemed to think it was really fucking weird I was even asking, so."

Whereas like -- any other Wednesday, if Annie rolled up and asked Summer to tell her about what shape pizza came in, she would have fully expected not only to have been questioned a little more on that (because what the hell), but also maybe treated to a story about a universe where pizza ordered and ate people, or something.

"How was that for you?" she wondered, a little concerned still.

Which was, indeed, a universe, and also one where pizza used people for furniture and ate chairs.

Summer shrugged. "I mean," she said, "it's not like it was the first time I thought I was a different version of me. And that me was exhausting, but at least she never tried to eat my cat."

Which was a...startlingly common thread among Other Summers.

And now Summer was regarding Annie's concern with some of her own.

"But you know I'm used to that kind of thing. I've been dealing with shit like that since I was in high school. Before this one."

Don't mind Annie looking around for Pancakes. You know. Now that you were mentioning her, and all.

"Yeah, but just because you're used to something or it's happened before doesn't mean it's not all fucked up when it happens again," Annie pointed out. "That kind of thing has to take a toll on you, I'd think."

Almost as if on cue, Pancakes started to slink out from where she'd been sleeping in the bedroom, curious about the voices and wondering about interrupting for some food, but she stopped, took in the scene and the pitchers on the table, gave Summer a hard, perhaps even judgmental stare for a moment, and promptly slinked right back into the bedroom.

And Summer, not noticing any of this, just shrugged her shoulders a little and took a drink. "The first couple of times," she allowed, "maybe, but at a certain point, like, it almost becomes the norm. It's more annoying and an inconvenience than anything else at this point.

"Which is whyyyy," Summer stated, now looking firmly over at Annie, "I have to ask where this concern for my ability to handle something that I've been dealing with for ages is coming from all of a sudden. What's been going on, Annie? I know we're not here to talk about how weird it is that I was actually normal for a weekend."

And look at you, Summer, getting right to the heart of things.

Annie took a moment to sip at her sangria, debating where to start with that kind of a prompt. "I mean. That still has to have been weird," she offered. "Being a different version of yourself. Being any version of yourself, besides the one you're used to."

She slanted a look over, hesitant. "Which is not what happened to me, but it's kind of related. But like...okay. So this all involves someone else who actually lives here, who did something kind of really, really wrong, and I'll tell you who, but like...I don't want it to be a thing where that makes it weird for you, if you don't want to know? I can just call them Bob for the sake of the story if you want."

This was less about protecting Wanda's privacy, because she had no doubt at all that Summer would respect that, and more about not wanting to cause issues for Summer if and when Wanda turned up on a Wednesday night again, or was on her shenanigans team this summer.

(That was all kind of hard to picture, honestly, given the last time Annie had seen Wanda, but...she didn't want to rule it out.)

Hey, Summer just wanted to make sure that Annie didn't hem and haw her way around it so much that they wound up circumnavigating it all together because Summer was getting tipsy and started ranting about something completely unrelated.

She knew how she was.

And she returned that slanted look right back at Annie.

"You know I'm going to want to know," she pointed out. "I want to know about everything, An. But....depending on how wrong we're talking about, there's probably a good chance that Bob better stay Bob so that the next time I see Bob, I'm not going to want to just cut a bitch."

Look, Summer and Annie had been through a lot together, and what they hadn't been through together, Summer at least knew that there were way too many things trying to fuck with Annie's shit, and she didn't appreciate any of it, and if Annie was still skirting around an issue with her this much?

Cutting a bitch was probably not even remotely close to enough.

But also, Annie tended to get into this kind of thing with people who could probably pulverize Summer in the blink of an eye, too, so there was also that. That cutting a bitch in this case would just be basically giving them an annoying papercut.

And this time, Annie had gotten into this kind of thing with someone she'd watched first remove a man's mouth so he'd effective shoot himself in his own brain, and then rip a different man to literal ribbons. Like. It was going to be a whole thing next time Annie had to deal with Homelander and, for whatever reason, decided not to call Wanda to just take care of that pesky problem.

So Bob it would be, at least to start with.

"So let's say that Bob is a person who has fantastical power -- like, I can't even dream of being able to take Bob on, Bob is real deal -- and Bob also maybe lost something really important to them," Annie started, hedging carefully. "And the only way Bob could get that something back was to...maybe kill a kid. And then maybe manipulate me into going along with it, by not telling me that part. And then maybe possessing me when I caught on and wasn't cool with it, so I...didn't have a choice. Maybe Bob did those kinds of wrong things."

Which was a whole lot less fun than Annie had made it sound on Wednesday, all, 'Tee hee, I was paint!'

Usually, in Summer's experience, the 'tee hee paint' parts were really there just to make sure you didn't just completely lose your fucking mind about everything else, and she was looking at Annie for a long, long moment.

"That," she stated, finally, "is a lot of maybes."

And she was going to start processing some of them with a big old gulp of wine, followed by a frown, and a totally unnecessary, but entirely for the record, "And pretty fucked up."

And then (there was a lot of processing going on here, it was coming out of her in stages, and the frown moves to her eyebrows, creased in sympathy), "I'm so sorry, Annie."

"It was pretty fucked up," Annie agreed. "And let's just go ahead and say that all the maybes are definitelies, and that this whole thing has made me really wonder whether I'm a fucking idiot when it comes to choosing friends."

Which was hastily followed by, "You're the best, not you, but just like -- this is like the third or fourth time someone's taken advantage of me like this. The worst one, sure -- like, no one else has used me like a puppet like she did, but...."

And more drinking, in lieu of finishing that sentence.

Also, Bob was a lady, it turned out, since she had gotten a little loose with her pronouns there.

Despite herself, Summer did have a small, wry sort of smile surface at Annie's hasty amendment there, and she made up for it with a hasty addition of more sangria to Anne's glass when she got the chance.

"Don't," she stated, "let someone else being an asshole be a reflection of who you are, Annie. You're not an idiot. You're a kind, generous person who likes to see the good in people...no matter how many times people seem intent on proving your wrong. That's not on you. That's on them, and don't you dare start thinking there's something wrong with you when it's everyone else who's fucked up."

Then she was quiet for a moment, topping off her own glass, too, as she reflected a little more on the details and whether or not her kneejerk reaction in reassuring Annie was just that, or a genuine response to the details she was being given.

"You're a good person, Annie Rebecca January Hargreeves," she stated, her conclusion now strong and firm and about to be washed down with another gulp of wine. "It's not your fault everyone else sucks ass."

"But this keeps happening to me," Annie pointed out, doubtful even as she took another drink. She really, really, really wanted to believe Summer was right, that this wasn't her fault, but it was hard when this was such a pattern. Her words were still bolstering, and Annie appreciated it, but....

"What's the point in finding the good in people when they're just going to exploit that? Wa -- Bob knew what to say to get me to go along with this, because she knows I'm a good person, and I'd help with her problem. When does that just become a weakness, Summer?"

What was the use in finding the good in people when they were just going to turn around and insist on ignoring that supposed goodness?

"I meeaaaan," said Summer, slowly, as she tried to hastily put her thoughts together in response to that, "in a way, it's always going to be a weakness. But, on the other side of that coin, you can't let it turn you so jaded and untrustworthy that you can't see good in anyone anymore, either. You know? But I guess....I guess what you do now is just learn from it. Maybe be a little more cautious, a little more...aware of the signs that someone's taking advantage of you like that. I mean, it honestly makes me think of my mom a little. And me, in a way, whenever I spend too much time with my grampa. Like, I know he's a dick, my mom definitely knows he's a dick, and yet somehow he knows all the right things to say to get us on his side, even though we should know better, and the next thing we know, we're blowing up planets or invading Atlantis just because he can't admit that he and his nemesis just need to fucking bone already..."

She sent over a sympathetic smile.

"And he doesn't even need mind control or possession or whatever to do it."

"But he's your grandfather," Annie pointed out, aware that this was exactly the sort of impulse getting her in trouble. "And your mom's dad. I mean, what if the one time he taps you and he actually does need your help, you say no? I'd feel so bad in that case, if it was me."

A pause to sip, and she added, "Besides, he's like a multiverse champ, right? You say no, you're probably just gonna end up with an Alternate Universe Grampa Rick fucking your day up in retaliation, right?"

Which sucked in its own right, really.

"He already is another Alternate Universe Grampa Rick fucking up my day," Summer pointed out, trying to remember if she ever even told Annie about this. "He's not even my real grampa. My real grampa is dead and buried in our backyard. There's a good chance that my current Grampa Rick actually killed him to take his place. The only reason I even know that, too, is because my brother....who is also not my actual Morty, my actual Morty is also buried in that same shallow grave...told me about when I got my first real taste of the multiverse and handled it so badly, I wanted to run away to the southwest and, I don't know, do something with turquoise."

Eyyyyy, never pass up a chance for a username drop, folks!

Summer, who at this point, was gesticulating a lot throughout all of that and making the reason for the color of her couch very clear, took a sip before it was too late.

"But you're right," she said, with an air of conclusion, "he is still my grandfather, even if he's not my real grandfather, he's still a version of him, and if he did sincerely come to me for help, then, yes, I'd still probably help him. Do you think that makes me an idiot?"

"I don't think I knew that," Annie noted, looking fairly horrified -- though, weirdly enough, she also had some very recent experience dealing with dead bodies and the replacement of oneself in another universe, too, and she couldn't help but think of Stephen. "I mean -- first of all, no, of course you're not an idiot. But holy shit, Summer. Is it like...can you tell that's not your Morty?"

How awful to think that you could just step into the life of another version of you. What was the point of anything, really, if it was like that?

Summer shrugged a little bit, a stiffer shrug than she might have had otherwise "That's just the thing," she said, looking down into her glass a moment, noticing how the bottom of her vision was a little blurry, before she looked back over at Annie and shook her head. "Not really. And I don't know if that's just because the difference is so negligible, or if it's just because it doesn't matter because he's the Morty I've got now, or both, or what, but it sure as hell put a lot of things into perspective for me, and started getting me to realize that if I did say no? It's not so much about another Alternate Reality Rick showing up to fuck up my day, it's more about the fact that he can just get another Alternate Reality Summer to fuck up instead."

She took a drink.

"Or just replace me with a robot again."

Another drink.

"Or just make a clone of me like he did my mom."

Another.

"Or just decide he never needed me in the first place. There's just as many Ricks out there without a Summer as there are Ricks with one. So, ultimately, it doesn't matter whether I say yes or I say no, because he can always just find a Summer who will say yes. So at least I know if I do say yes, then I at least get to be the Summer that matters."

And, with that, Summer was definitely ready for a refill.

"I think," she added, as she poured, "that's straying a little off the topic, though. If I'm not an idiot for not saying no, then you're definitely not one, either."

"The topic is allowed to stray," Annie decided, definitely starting to feel her own sangria by now. And she didn't need to be drunk to be affectionate or sincere with Summer, but it did loosen the floodgates a bit and allow, "And you're always the Summer who matters. Always."

But -- Annie also knew very well that people not taking her advice was a sore point with Summer, and she got that, so she also gave her a firm (as firm as she could) nod in agreement. "So maybe neither of us is an idiot. Maybe just people suck and it's a matter of...looking out for that suckiness. No matter how sad it is they want to get down with their nemesis or that they lost their kids across the universe, or whatever."

Just, like. A random example.

Oh, yeah, so totally random. And not at all something Summer, after giving maybe a skeptical sort of expression at the whole always matters thing, because, well, she liked to think that at least a few more people would notice if she got replaced by a robot again this time around, but, like, being replaced by a robot and really only having two or three people even really notice stuck with a person, was taking note of, really!

"People lose kids across the universe," give or take! She was using the term very metaphorically and specifically!, "all the time, but it takes a special kind of asshole to make it other people's problems."

She huffed, slightly, because all of this really was starting to blur a little with her own hang-ups, and she felt like that was blinding her a little to the details of Annie's particular case.

"It really sucks," she said, measured and slow, looking down into her cup to focus better, "that this Bob character took advantage of you like that, Annie. And if I ever see this Bob," who she was definitely going to start trying to figure out who it was when the make sure Annie is okay part of all this was taken care, and she looked over at Annie now as if to check if she was still doing okay, "it's going to be real hard to not just want to punch her right in the face. And it sucks that there are so many people out there who see you and your kindness and see it as something that can be used and manipulated, and I want to punch all them in the face, too. Or at least," she sent a faint grin over, since she had receipts to back this one up, "troll them mercilessly on the internet. But I love that you're so kind and such a good person, Annie, and I love you, and you're one of the strongest people I know. The fact that you've been through as much shit as you have and you still care and you still want to help people, who so don't even deserve even a fraction of your kindness? That's really admirable. I know it probably feels like weakness right now, but it really isn't."

If Summer was replaced by a robot, or a clone, or anything other than her perfect, current self -- Annie really thought she would notice. The pizza discussion had twigged her radar as it was! (And if nothing else, Annie was pretty fucking good at dispatching robots, it turned out, so she was also useful there.)

Annie was mostly considering her glass as Summer spoke, maybe blinking away the occasional bleariness, but it was obvious the words were having an impact.

"If it helps," she offered after a moment of quiet, "someone already punched her in the face. The kid she wanted to sacrifice, actually."

And it had broken Annie's mind control, on top of being incredibly fucking satisfying.

"But I know you're right, and I don't think -- like, I don't think I could even be less like that if I tried," she noted, snorting out a little laugh. "I mean, I can keep my eyes open and I can be a little less dumb about trusting people at their word, and I went and got my ass a Supe-friendly therapist for exactly that, 'cause like...I know this is bred into me, and there's a better way, I'm sure of it."

Because yeah, there was a difference between helping people and allowing yourself to be repeatedly bamboozled by, say, a guy who thought a sad story about Pizza Rolls made a compelling argument for drug abuse and the murder of dozens of innocents.

"But like, that's what I love about you," she noted, wide-eyed and gesticulating a bit herself now. "You don't take people's shit! You call people out on being, like, 'nice guys' or assholes or selfish or whatever! And it's fucking amazing."

And Summer couldn't really help a small, faintly proud grin at that praise. She even almost wanted to argue that it wasn't really that awesome, that most people probably thought she was kind of a bitch, but...

It was pretty awesome, wasn't it?

So she was just going to take thay, thank you, and revel in it and preen a little bit before snorting.

"I guess," she groused, "I can't feel too bad about not getting to do the punching if it was the kid she was sacrificing who got to do it. Like, Jesus Christ, who even does that?"

*cough*Ricks*cough*

The level of people here who gave her certain gross Rick vibes lately was too damn high.

"I'm glad you found a good therapist, though," she said. "Sangria nights are awesome and needed, but they are ko substitution for proper mental health care. Dr. Wong has literally changed my life. Maybe 'Bo~o~ob' should have tried a licenced professional over manipulating people and sacrificing other people's children, too, you know?"

And here she thought turning yourself into a pickle to avoid proper therapy had been extreme....yeesh.

Edited 2023-01-20 21:37 (UTC)

"It's kinda funny -- my recommendation came from a guy named Wong, too. But he's the Sorcerer Supreme," Annie told her, actually giving Sorcerer Supreme the little verbal flourish she thought it deserved and managing a giggle. "I met him while working on all of this. Magic bullshit is really hard to fight, by the way, in case you were wondering -- like, I will take alllllllll the superpowered prehensile dicks in the multiverse over fighting a wizard again, Jesus."

The glowy, flying lady had been no treat, either, but Strange had been kind of awful to deal with. Especially since --

"Correction," Annie noted, swallowing some sangria. "Zombie wizard. But yeah, you're right -- ol' Bob should have probably looked for a good someone to talk to before...any of this."

The thing was, she had, of course. But the Darkhold made a fucking bad therapist.

That's where the licensed professional part made a pretty big difference, tbh.

"Ohmygooooood, Annie!" said Summer, snorting just a little as, oh, look at that, another refill! And she held out the pitcher to Annie to see if she was in need of more, too. "Phrasing! You are a married woman now!"

But thank you for that, actually. Summer really appreciated conversations that could go from sacrificing children to her bestie taking on all the superpowered prehensile dicks in the multiverse in two-point-five seconds.

Then her nose wrinkled. "Why does zombie wizard actually make it sound that much more worse? Like, wizard didn't make you feel special enough, we gotta go and be undead, too? C'mon."

Then she sighed a little, looking over at Annie with a faint smile. "I'm glad you're okay, though," she added. "I mean, mostly, besides the trauma. I swear, girl, you're like a cockroach, you can survive anything this bullshit multiverse tries to throw at you. And look totally hot doing it."

She made a muffled sound as another thought hit her with her next drink.

"Not to say," she added quickly, wiping her mouth a little from the sangria that tried to escape before she gulped it down, "that cockroaches are hot. Two separate thoughts, there."

Edited 2023-01-20 22:04 (UTC)

"I am hot, cockroaches are not," Annie agreed, happily having taken that refill, thank you! "The zombie wizard thing is 'cause in that universe, you can, like, jump into the head of yourself there through a dream. So like -- instead of like, knowing about other Summers, you could just go to sleep and possess another Summer from over here, with the right tools. And anyway this dude was dead in this world."

Made sense, right? Totally.

"Also!" Annie added, feeling a whole lot better -- one part bestie-talk power-ups, one part being hungover tomorrow. "I'll have you know Diego has met the prehensile dick twice. I've only met that guy once! And with my husband!"

Fiancé at the time, whatever.

"Terrible superpower, though," she murmured, saying it half into her glass. "Just terrible."

It made enough sense. Summer was honestly mostly just stuck on the thought of other Summers jumping into her head, which, like, dealing with those bitches in their own bodies was bad enough as it was, or temporarily being one for a weekend, fine, but sharing a body with more than one of herself?

PASS.

It didn't help that most Summers tried to kill each other, and that just seemed like a recipe for a straight up aneurism.

"Well, I don't know about that," said Summer. "There are definitely a lot worse superpowers, and I think....wait, no. It depends. Did he have, like, full control over it? Or was it like a thing where it pretty much had a mind of its own? Because one of those could be potentially awesome, and the other is an actual literal nightmare. It's one of those things, too, where it's like, okay, yes, terrible compared to being able to, like, control electricity or fly or be invisible, but, the real question is: is a superpower dick still better than no superpower at all?"

"I think he could control it," Annie said, and congrats, Summer, she was drunk enough that you were getting a whole, like, demonstration of how the dick moved using her arm. "Like an elephant's trunk. And also maybe he can see through it?"

That, right there, was an actual nightmare. Imagine being able to see with one's genitals.

"I met him at the orgy over the summer, before I quit." OBVIOUSLY. "And I dunno, Summer. I kinda feel like no superpowers is better than having a dick that can grab people."

"Yeah, I don't know," Summer had to admit, "but, like, this is coming from the perspective of someone who doesn't have superpowers, soooo.....

"Also," she added, "if I had a massive prehensile dick that I could control and possibly be able to see out of? Like, I'd be a shoe-in for some major advancements in gynecological studies."

And therein was the difference, between Summer Smith and...that guy. Because she would absolutely be using her prehensile dick for good and not...

Okay, she probably would grab people with it, too, but, like, only if they were into that.

Edited 2023-01-20 22:38 (UTC)

"Don't limit yourself -- you'd probably make great strides in, like, throat cancer research, too."

Yeah, Annie was officially drunk.

"But look at that," Annie noted, all fond and headtilty at Summer. "Look at you, finding a way to use the dick powers for good. Next you'll come up with a plan for the guy with the acid vomit."

Maybe he had the worst superpowers, actually.

Oh, man. Summer loved drunk Annie, and a hand actually made it to her chest as she looked fondly back at her in deep appreciation, not only for the expansion of her grand vision for the good she'd do with her giant prehensile penis, but also the fact that they had clearly come so far in just one conversation as a whole.

But you needed the disgusting anatomy moment, the lol paint moments, the turning into a pickle moments. Because otherwise you'd go fucking insane.

"Acid vomit, huh?" she said. "That one does seem a little trickier to sell...but for some reason, my mind keeps going to, like, demolition? Or, like, strategic construction. Like, I don't know, this is me assuming it's corrosive enough to melt through, like, fucking I-beams and shit. If it's just, like, bleeeegh," yes, she needed to act out the gagging and puking all over something, "oops, burned your skin a bit, that is a pretty lame super power, but if it's all bleeeegh, oh, look at that, it's eating away flesh and bone, this could actually be a really interesting solution for waste removal, or something!"

"I think he could melt through flesh and bone," Annie said thoughtfully -- or as thoughtfully as one could when definitely being as inebriated as she. "Diego saw him firsthand. I was outside dealing with my asshole friend Hughie."

And with that helpful bit of information, Annie tapped her nose, then pointed at Summer, as though conveying something important. "He's one of the reasons I'm in therapy! He's not, like, Bob, but there's a great example of someone I never should've trusted but did because I'm dumb and nice and believe people about sad things."

"I mean," said Summer, frowning a little at how she thought she'd used the big pitchers for this tonight, but apparently not!, if the one she had was almost already empty!, "the guy's name is Hughie, even I already feel bad for him."

"Right?" Annie agreed, idly munching on a little chunk of apple. "Like, of all the red flags, that right there. Note to self: be suspicious of guys named Hughie."

Which was not going to help her with the Wanda problem, but honestly -- it was so much more common that some nice-guy asshole got in Annie's way than for one of her actual friends to go through something horrific and take Annie down with her, really.

MHA #4; Friday Evening [01/20].

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